


The Child and The Monster

by EAVanGeek



Series: The Lady and The Rose [3]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Dettlaff van der Eretein - Freeform, For like. A brief Moment at the end, Gen, Mild Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:16:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22024687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EAVanGeek/pseuds/EAVanGeek
Summary: Long before the Nilfgaardian Wars, before the Butcher of Blaviken, during the time known as 'The Golden Era' for witchers- there was a Cat named Lady...Hunting Monsters isn't the only thing a Witcher needs to know. They must also know when to save them- and manners of the court of course. After her time in Skellige, Lady visits a friend of the Bear's, and stays for a time.
Series: The Lady and The Rose [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1344463
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

To say that Toussaint is pretty was an understatement. The North had its own kind of beauty, from the marshlands in Novigrad to Skellige, with the various clans and pirates, had a certain beauty to it. But it was laced with harsh reality, the blood shed and nobility’s petty fights with the College spilling out into the streets. The North was full of witchers trying to make ends meet; it wasn’t any surprise that so many young witchers went South as fast as they could, hoping to gain coin and maybe even fame.

In Toussaint, the school of the Griffin excelled. Half of the witchers were famed knight errants, the other had ballads on ballads written about them, some even a few wine vintages. After five years in Skellige, on and off again with Igor the Silent, Lady wasn’t expecting the… fanfare that came from the land of wine and knights.

She was least of all expecting Benjkal, or ‘Ser Gryphon’ as the court had dubbed him. Least of all, for Benjkal to be so young- after all, Igor was the only connection the two had. 

A witcher with a head full of curls and no massive scars on his face. Strawberry blonde hair that was matched with a waxed goatee, yellow cat eyes that were not nearly as threatening as her own. Benjal dressed like a Witcher, talked like a Noble, and bragged like a Whore. In other words, he was a Knight of the Duchy… which meant he wasn’t able to take on normal contracts.

“Tell me again,” Lady asked, eating breakfast in Benjkal’s rooms. “Why exactly, you can’t take this contract?”

“Because this particular wine maker would use my connections to sell his latest vintage off as something better than it is.” Benjal ate with fork and knife, gloves off. “Besides, you’ve only recently come back from Nilfgaard- come on, this will get your blood pumping again!”

“How much does the contract say?”

“Oh, room and board are taken care of, and I heard that the winemaker’s wife is-”

“How much, Benjkal.”

“It’s Ser Ben, come now my Fair Huntress!” He laughed before leaning in close. “It’s only a hundred gold, but it is in… Florens.”

“I need unmarked coins, Ser Ben. Florens don’t do me anything here.”

“You could always go to the bank to exchange it-”

“And have them charge me half the coin in currency rates? Pass.”

“Look,” Ser Ben sighed, “Outside of a knighthood, you’re not going to find work in Toussaint. I got lucky- one contract with a noblemen trying to show off and all of a sudden I got a knighthood for saving the Duke from my patron’s mistakes.”

“Hmm, how lucky for you.”

“Why are you coming to me for contracts, if I might ask?”

“...”

“Are you and Maria-”

“It’s fine.”

“Doesn’t sound like it’s fine.”

“It’s. Fine. Perfect, even.”

“Wonderful, what’s the problem then?”

Lady got up from the table, taking the rolled up parchment next to the other witcher’s elbow. Outside, peacocks crooned, the royal gardens in shades of pinks and oranges as the sun rose in the sky. Ser Ben stood up from his chair, his now iconic Silver and Meteorite whip on his hip. While Lady was in full armour for the day, Ser Ben was only in a shirt and court leggings. He grabbed her by her forearm, stopping her from walking away.

“Did someone offer you money to kill her?”

“... No. No, it’s nothing like that.”

“Then what is wrong, my friend.”

“I- I… saw something, last time I was there.”

“What did you see?”

Lady shut her eyes, flashes of memories. The youngest servant, a girl who was originally a Surprise, throat slit and body dry of blood. The bath, not steamed but cool, what was meant to be wine instead a different reddish liquid. The smell, the site of two more girls, both barely at the age of sixteen, dead and drained of blood, skin like ash and-

“A monster. I saw a monster.”

“... Lady, she’s-”

“I know what she is!” Lady yanked her arm away, turning to face the man. “But she’s intelligent! She can hold a conversation, has empathy, she’s- She’s not-”

“Maria is an Alp. A vampire.” Ser Benjkal’s face was harsh, his seniority showing now. “I don’t know what they’re teaching you people nowadays, but a vampire  _ is _ an intelligent monster. But it is a monster, and you should treat it like one.”

Lady’s fist shook with anger, before she let out a heavy sigh, head bowed.

“Look- Lady, I’ve gotten to know you rather well this last year. I would even consider you a friend. So as your friend, I ask you. What are you going to do about the Alp known as Maria?”

“... I don’t know. She’s- she would know something was wrong if I came home right now. I’ll- I’ll take the contract and then maybe after… maybe after you can help get rid of her. Quietly.”

Benjkal nodded, a soft smile on his face.

“Alright. You need only ask, Lady Witcher.”

* * *

The winemaker was fat, his wife bored and wishing for something more than blubber to grab onto. The contract had stated that the wife’s favourite servants had started to disappear, only to reappear a few days later- strung up across the vines of grapes in the winemaker’s fields.

“First, was there any connection between the missing servants?” Lady leaned against the tree, the winemaker laying back on a chaise, his wife seated in a chair next to him.

“None!” The winemaker fanned himself while speaking. “All different workers- there was the Smith, a good dwarf, and then Lucille, a fine young elf, not like the vagabonds in the wilds, and of course, Gabriel, a fine lad of sixteen summers. Such a shame really.”

“Well,” The wife sighed, clutching a handkerchief. “I did give each of them a token you see. Green Gold, polished to look silver- Lucille’s had an emerald whereas Frederick- the smith- he had mother of pearl inlay. Gabriel, oh sweet Gabriel…”

“You gave each of your servants a piece of jewelry?”

“Yes. It’s harmless, really.” The wife dabbed at her eyes, the winemaker rolling his own. “I just wanted- they were all very dear to me you see.”

“Do you have any enemies?”

“Oh where to start. There’s the neighbor-”

“I’m talking to your wife. We’ll get to you.”

“None! I am very liked in the village.”

Lady doubted that. Still, there was enough to work on for a basic idea, maybe if she went to Maria and- No. No, she was going to do this alone, gods help her.

“I have one more question. When did would they disappear? Was it during the day, at night? Dusk or Dawn even?”

“Well, I would talk with them, Fredrick liked to talk at his forge, Gabriel was my handmaid and would walk the vines with me, and Lucille prefered the gardens. I would bid good night and then when I would come by the next evening, gone! They were all gone!”

“I’ll have to talk with the rest of your staff, get a better idea of when exactly.”

“Oh Witcher, please, you must help us.” The winemaker grunts as he sits up, a servant having come with a tray of fruit and cheese. “A good old fashioned horror story will sell the wine well enough, but I can’t afford to hire anyone new until the wine is bottled! And besides, the more servants who die on site, the fewer who wish to replace them!”

“Hm. Who would’ve thought.” Lady drawled, dripping sarcasm.

“I suppose you would like some sort of payment up front, yes?” the wife asked.

Lady smiled. That was something she really liked about nobles and the South. Payment up front.

“The contract said 100 Florens- I don’t take marked coin, and ballads don’t fill my belly. If the monster is targeting favoured servants, let’s keep up the ruse. I’ll spend the next three days with your wife- make sure anyone you come into contact with know that I’m just a hired guard. If they wonder why a Witcher, I’m sure you can come up with something… interesting.”

“Well yes, but if not Florens then… what?”

“After three days, give me a token.” Lady turned to face the wife. “Something of equal value as the victims had gotten. I won’t be spending all of my time with you, I still need to do my own investigation but I’m assuming you didn’t spend all of your time with your servants.”

“And the token… shall be your payment?”

“The first half of it, yes. The second half is room and board for my stay. And if you like, for an extra fee, I can bring you the head of whatever creature is targeting you all.”

“But what if it is not a monster?”

“The offer stands.”

“I had heard that you Cats were less noble than Griffons.” the winemaker laughs, bits of cracker falling to his stomach. “I’m so glad that Ser Benjkal offered you to us! But do tell me, what do you think the beast is at the moment.”

“I’m unsure.”

“But you do have a guess, no?” The wife asked. 

When she leaned forward, Lady could see why the winemaker married her. And why she said she had no enemies in the village. The witcher smiled, leaning her head back on the tree before speaking.

“It’s probably a vampire, they’re common in Toussaint- more than people want to admit.”

“A vampire? Oh, well that’s certainly romantic?”

“Not if it’s Garkain. They tend to use mucus sacks to trap their food and fill it with an acidic toxin that melts anything inside them.”

“Ah, um… you don’t think it’s one of those, do you?”

“Hm… could be. Or it could be a Ekimma- or hell, even a Katakan, given the fact that your victims little tokens were never recovered. Regardless, give me three days with you and then I’ll start hunting.”

* * *

Three days, and Lady made sure to get the things she needed. Silver dust, quicksilver, ducal water. During her walks with the wife, she would make a slight detour before to collect sewant mushrooms and dog’s tallow. Top it all off with what was left of her ghoul’s blood and some dwarven spirit she swiped from the forge, and she had what she needed.

Three days of tailing the wife, seeing who she talked with. Unlike most nobility, she seemed fine around non-humans, though she still had some prejudice. She paid dwarves an extra coin, gave elves dried flowers, and silk ribbon to halflings. Lady said nothing, but smiled whenever the elf would spit after, tossing the flower to the garbage, how the dwarf sneered but pocketed the coin, or the halflings would usually wince and smile before handing the ribbon to the next message boy who passed by.

_ Typical noble woman. _ Lady thought, especially when the wife tried to convince Lady to take off her armour and join her for a swim in the stream, far away from laundry maids and her husband’s actual guards. Or the fact that she would sigh in the morning so loud that it broke Lady’s concentration when she did her morning warm-up.

Three days of free food, goosefeather pillows, and dreading every minute around the winemaker and his wife. And then she got her payment.

“You look so fetching in blue- so I had crushed sapphires put into this bracelet. Oh! It suits you so well!”

Lady took the bracelet, putting it on her left wrist, spending the evening with the wife until the sun set… and then the hunt would begin.

The problem was, the more Lady had looked into the deaths and attacks, the less it and less it made sense. No screams, no fighting, no final dismissive. Nightmares that plagued the victims a few nights before their disappearances, but the body’s were strung up across grape vines and tree branches. The first body still had blood, the second had less, and the third had very little left.

“Almost like… it’s an infant?”

But the deaths were mixed up- a blend of two lesser vampires really. Perhaps an odd coupling brought this one beast? If it was two fully grown, there would be more victims. But they’re weren’t… 

Lady sat high in a tree, watching the path that she knew the attacker would take given her investigation. Drunkards and midnight traders travelled, unaware of the Cat in the trees, watching everything.

That’s when she saw it. A woman, walking with a man leaning-  _ no, _ being dragged by her. But the woman was walked faster than usual, faster than an even unburden human would. And she was carrying a man nearly twice her size. Lady delicately goes down to a lower branch, getting a better look.

Pale skin, a face that was both beautiful and alien. And black fingernails that held no paint.

“Gotcha.”


	2. Chapter 2

Lady stayed in the trees, her training making it easy to go from one branch to the next without rustling the leaves. Her prey was underneath her, dragging the dead man further into the forest. The witcher downed a potion, the near pitch black becoming bright as day to her. 

A pair of crows followed by a flock of canaries- the first warning signal. A detour and the canopy was an easy enough route to avoid them. The vampire then dropped the body in the middle of a clearing, shedding their clothes and heading towards a small cave close by. Lady waited.

And waited.

The bruxa raced out, fully transformed and hissing. Lady pulled out one of her daggers, ready to defend up in the trees… but the bruxa didn’t know she was high above yet. The vampire screamed, running out, further into the woods, speaking in it’s tongue, shrill and nerve grating- but worried?

Lady waited for half a moment.

And waited another.

Then took a Black Blood potion and started to climb down, slowly pulling out her silver sword, keeping the dagger close to her chest. She came towards the body.

“... Dead. Shit.”

She searched the corpse, but there were no trinkets to be found. That’s when she heard snickering coming from the cave. Lady, moved away from the body, taking a defensive stance and waited.

And waited.

The snickering grew closer.

And closer.

And then she saw a rarity, even for monsters.

An infant Ekimma, swaying back and forth, long ears draggin in the dirt as it moved towards the body. Lady remained frozen, still as a statue.

The infant paused, saw the Witcher in a half crouched position… and the bracelet on her wrist. It snickered, clicking it’s mouth and showing off incisors that were no doubt baby teeth, but still well over two inches long. Lady didn’t move at all, waiting for it to make the first move towards.

The infant opens and closes it’s fist, claws tapping against each other. As if… to say hello? Lady cocked her head to the side, straining her ears for the Bruxa, knowing that it should be nearby. The Ekimma then ripped into the corpse, pulling out entrails and the liver. Intestines that draped across it’s shoulders, stomach dangling like a medallion as the liver was sucked on until it was dried out and then thrown away.

Lady watched as the infant fed, chirping away and singing to itself… it was a little easier than the Bruxa’s speech at least. Lady slowly put away her dagger, but kept her silver sword close by. She lowered herself to the ground, one knee on the dirt. The Ekimma pup snorted, looking at Lady.

The both froze.

And waited.

That’s when the Ekimma spoke broken Common at Lady.

“Who? Who you?”

“... I’m a Witcher.”

“Why?”

“It’s what I am.”

“Who? Name who?”

“My name is Lady.”

“What? Do what?”

“... I kill monsters. For gold.”

The Ekimma pup laughed- the sound more like rapid clicks and cackling. And then, it started to sing.

“ _ Lady Witcher, Monster Killer. Always gold, never silver!” _

Lady found herself smiling, moving to sit across from the pup. Th Ekimma ate it’s meal, the body’s internal organs either tossed around and rubbed into its fur, or sucked dry. It was… fascinating. If Lady wasn’t on edge for the pup’s surrogate mother, she might have pulled out a book and started to write down notes, possibly even take a sketch of the pup.

There was a scuffling sound, followed by crows and canaries cawing in the canopy. Lady cursed, grabbing her silver sword and turning towards the sound. And saw the Bruxa, with blood dripping from it’s jaws and chest.

“Shit.”

The Bruxa inhaled just as Lady started to run back towards the trees. A screech ripped across the clearing, sending the Witcher into a tree, her arm feeling the impact. A pirouette, and defensive stance, just as the Bruxae disappeared… but dust kicked up where she was running.

Lady threw out an Aard, the small dust trail turning into a massive one as the Bruxa fell. Lady sheathed her silver sword, climbing the tree as quickly as she could. Long gashes found where her legs once were. 

The first branch broke, cut completely through from claws. Another screech aimed up at the trees, causing Lady to fly up into a branch and scramble to grab onto one that wasn’t broken before falling to the ground and certain death.

And the Ekimma pup was laughing, the sound not nearly as terrifying as the Bruxa’s spitting and hissing at the foot of the tree. And it was still singing that stupid rhyme!

“ _ Lady Witcher, Monster Killer! Always gold, never silver!” _

Lady then spat out the only vampiric she knew from Maria. The Bruxa stopped. It looked at the pup who was singing up at the Witcher in the tree. The monster and the hunter both stared down at each other as the pup continued it’s sickly laugh, waddling over to its mother.

“... You know common?” Lady asked

The Bruxa nodded.

“I’m not going to kill you, or your pup. You understand?”

The Bruxa hissed, but started to walk backwards. Lady waited until the mother and child were by the corpse before making her way back down. Lady stayed by the tree, the Bruxa by the corpse. It was the Ekimma pup who ended up walking over to the Witcher.

It tapped on the bracelet that Lady was wearing, fascinated by the jewelry. That was when Lady saw them- the other tokens from the winemaker’s wife. The mother of pearl, emeralds, green gold polished to look like silver. Lady looked up at the Bruxa, saw that she had fangs bared and claws extended.

Lady sighs, letting the pup drag her over to the body, offering up a kidney to the Witcher. She tries to wave it off but then the Bruxa speaks up.

“Eat. Or be eaten.”

“... Fine. May I sit?”

“... Fine.”

Neither moved. The Ekimma gurgled, moving towards it’s mother and hopping in place while it’s arm. The Bruxa never took their eyes off of Lady, but the two slowly knelt down on either side of the corpse, handed a kidney each. Lady waited until the Bruxa started to drain the kidney before taking a bite out of hers.

The Ekimma started to laugh, hopping from one foot to the next, continuing to sing it’s little rhyme. Lady nearly spat out the kidney but received a hiss from the Bruxa for so much as turning her head slightly. So she swallowed instead, humming as she took a second bite of raw kidney, nodding her head yes at the pup as it watched her eat.

The shared meal, if it could even be called that, was finished… and silence fell the clearing. Lady stared at the Bruxa, unsure what to do next.

The Bruxa glared at the Witcher as it started to groom the Ekimma pup.

“... Okay, look. You can’t stay here. I was hired to find and kill who ever is murdering a nobleman’s servants.”

“Pup needs food. Pup likes gifts.”

“I can see that. But you can’t stay here. I won’t kill you, or your pup- but other Witcher’s might come.”

“I’ll kill them.”

“ _ Stronger _ Witchers will come. One’s with more experience.”

“... You not kill. Why?”

“Because-” Lady paused. “... I don’t know, actually.”

“You mother?”

“... No. I’m a Witcher.”

“Children? Any children?”

“What part of Witcher- no. No, I don’t have any children. I can’t. It’s impossible.”

“Same.”

“... What?”

“No children, not mine.”

“So why protect this one?”

“Given. Now mine. Will protect.”

“... Look,” Lady pinched the bridge of her nose. “You cannot stay here- for your pup’s sake. You might be stronger and faster than a Witcher, but  _ that _ isn’t. It’s still learning and growing, and if you drop off prey for it to learn how to fight, said prey might actually kill it.”

The Bruxa held the Eikmma’s head closer to her chest at those words. Lady sighed, running a hand through her short hair… and felt the bracelet against her forehead. She looked down at it, then at the pup. It was still staring at it with rapt fascination.

“... If I give you this bracelet, will you leave this village?”

“Where go?”

“I don’t, why not Nazir?”

“Na-zyr?”

“Yeah, the second most populated place for vampires, a breeding ground really. They’re not as rich but… You’ll find baubles for the kid, I’m sure.”

The Bruxa paused… and then extended their hand. The Ekimma pup sat up, leaning forward with it’s claws sunk into the corpse, watching as Lady took off her payment. She paused as a dirty foot was shoved into her face, the pup clicking and unable to sit still.

Lady looked up at it’s mother, saw that while the Bruxa had taken a more relaxed form, black hair and ashen skin with more natural features, her eyes were still completely black and glaring at her. The Witcher gently took ahold of the Ekimma’s foot, clicking the bracelet in place.

As soon as it was on, the pup brought the bracelet to it’s face, squealing in joy as it started to bite at the metal. The Bruxa picked up the pup, putting them in their lap, brushing back the hair by it’s oversized ears and gnarled face.

“Thank you.” the Bruxa said.

“Yeah well,” Lady grunts as she stands up. “You need to leave this village. I won’t stick around to watch you and your pup die. Take my advice, or don’t, I don’t quite care… Goodbye.”

* * *

Lady regrets not killing that Bruxa, now that she was having to listen to the winemaker bitch at her for it.

“I hired you to kill a monster! What do you mean there wasn’t one!? I saw the bodies! The corpses on my fields!”

“It was most likely a jealous lover of your wife’s. She’s… well liked in the village.” Lady looked out at the field, watched as the servants picked grapes of the same hue as the winemaker’s face. “Ask her.”

“My- YOU- HOW DARE YOU! OUT! Get out of my estate and don’t you ever return again!”

“Fine by me.”

“I want the bracelet back!”

“We had an agreement, Sire.” Lady looked back at the winemaker, narrowing her pupils to where they were slits. “Half up front, half when the job is done. Besides, the bracelet is long gone.”

“Gone!?” the winemaker moved closer. “How could it be gone you’ve had it for barely a da-aaay okay, okay!”

Lady pulled out an iron dagger, holding it in between the winemaker’s several chins. She stood up to her full height, towering over the stout man, throwing her shadow over him. She sneered at him, lip curled to show off her teeth.

“Unless you wish to raise the price on our little contract, there will be no killing today. I told you, it was most likely a jealous lover. If you want to hire an assassin, then by all means.”

“I- you- I- Y-y-you can’t threaten me!”

“I’m. Not. From Toussaint.”

The winemaker went pale in the face. Lady lifted the dagger, taking a bit of his mustache in the process, the whiskers falling to the ground as she leaned back on the tree. The winemaker fell back in his chair, trying to catch his breath.

That’s when she saw him. He was standing by the edge of the fence, wearing black and red, pale face and pale eyes… and the Bruxa in her humanesque form, wearing a cloak and a necklace with mother of pearl inlay. Any ordinary man would have never picked up on such a detail… but Lady was a Witcher, not a man.

She didn’t listen to whatever the winemaker was saying, too focused on the Bruxa and the other man. He gave a slow nod, putting one hand on the Bruxa’s shoulder, moving her along. She had a woven basket wrapped in heavy cloth on her back. Lady could have sworn she heard the pup singing it’s little rhyme from where she was- but she couldn’t be sure. It was only when a picker stood up to wipe their brow that Lady lost sight of them- the group disappeared without a trace.

“What were you saying?” Lady asked, finally facing the winemaker.

Now he was livid, face going redder than the vintages that he brewed.

“OFF MY LAND! NOW!!”

“... As you wish,” Lady gave a bow so low it was clearly mocking. “Sire Bulbous.”

“OUT!!”

Lady left, walking back to the road, wondering how she would tell Benjkal about this contract. She smiled to herself, knowing he would find it funny before lecturing her about how monsters are monsters, not friends.

Still… The witcher wondered who that man was with the Bruxa.

“Probably her mate.” Lady muttered, putting her hood up as she grew closer to the village. “Must be.”


End file.
